Venefica
by anathemaybe
Summary: Solona Amell was never recruited by Duncan. Set during the Broken Circle quest, with more to come. f!Amell/Cullen. F!Cousland Warden.
1. Abomination

The demon would not break him. He'd been trapped in his prison for days at least, denied both lyrium and food and haunted with images of _her_. It would come to him in her form, her beautiful lips parted, eyes half-closed with want as she leaned against the barrier, looking up at him in a way he knew his – no, the _real_ Solona never would. It showed him her, spread before him, begging for his touch, moaning his name in truly obscene ways. Those illusions were easiest to break. He had never wanted her like that, save for his greatest moments of weakness.

Sometimes it would show him visions of a life they could never have, and those were so much worse. He'd wake up in a small home, and they'd have children and a mabari, or else he'd be in the First Enchanter's office, except in the visions it was _hers_, and as First Enchanter and Knight-Commander there was no one to reprimand them for their relationship.

Slowly, he started to hate her. Even if Amell wasn't responsible for the demon, it was what she could become, what she might have already become, if she was even still alive. It laughed at him, and he hated it and her even more. He was an _idiot_, being infatuated with a mage, of all things, and his weakness was costing him now. But he could repent. He could be strong, now, to make up for his sins.

She appeared before him once more, but this vision was nothing like the others. Her robes were torn, but not in the scandalous ways the demon had presented her. There were spots where they were burned, too, and some of her hair had been signed. The still-new robes she earned through her Harrowing were bloody, and he was unsure if the blood was hers or another's. Her eyes, though, lit up as she saw him, and she rushed to his prison, hands pressed against the barrier of light.

"Cullen," the demon said, breathless from exertion and seemingly exhausted. So it decided a new tactic was in order, then. No matter. He would not be swayed.

"Leave, demon," he spat, unnerved at the look of hurt on her face. It was getting better at impersonating her, making him feel guilty for wishing to drive it away. Perhaps it had realized the libidinous displays would go nowhere with him; this vision, he could tell, would be his hardest to resist.

"What? Cullen, it's me," it said, hint of desperation in her voice making him clench his fists. "It's Solona. I came to save you-"

His laugh was harsh, and the demon recoiled.

"You think to tempt me this way, demon?" He demanded, her hurt and confusion fueling his anger. "She is at the bottom of the tower, with the surviving mages, or she is dead. She could not climb this far alone."

The look of absolute outrage on her face was almost enough to convince him it truly was Amell.

"Couldn't climb this far alone?" she said, voice shaking with fury. He'd never seen her so angry before. "I never even made it to the bottom of the tower, I _hid,_ like a Maker-forsaken coward, and once the _screaming _stopped I remembered you were on duty up here, so I came to find you! I fought through abominations, I even _killed a blood mage_ to find you, and now you think I'm a _demon_? Maker, Cullen, did you not think I'd have some motivation in trying to make sure you were safe!"

It was too convincing an act. Cullen closed his eyes and fell to his knees, beginning the Chant. She smacked the light barrier, hard, but he didn't look up.

"Look at me!" she commanded, voice edged with tears as she kicked the wall. "Cullen, I swear to the Maker, I risked my life to come find you, if you don't come with me –"

"Leave me be," he begged, not looking up at her. "It… It is too much like her. You could not break me before –"

He stopped himself; her face flushed and her jaw dropped as she stared down at him.

"You…" she exhaled, staring at him in shock, "The demons were tempting you with… me?"

"Don't play a fool," he implored as his voice cracked with emotion. "She is the only thing I've ever coveted, the only one you could – could…"

Shakily, her hand covered her mouth, her fingertips pressed against the light barrier. "Cullen…" she whispered, pressing closer to the light barrier. "I'm so sorry… I… I hadn't realized…" Eyes shut, she took a steadying breath and pulled herself together. "It – it doesn't matter now," she said, sounding as though she wished to convinced herself as much as him. "I need to free you. I won't be able to make it back down on my own. I should be able to figure out how to break the-"

"What is this?" a voice asked from behind. Solona turned, back pressed against the barrier. The desire demon – Cullen supposed the one who'd been tormenting him – surveyed the two of them, lazily running a hand up her side. "So, you've come to free him?"

"S-stay back," she said, but her voice was filled with terror.

The demon laughed. "Poor little girl…. I know what you seek."

"S-stop!" she exclaimed, pressing further against the barrier. Cullen watched, hopelessly, as the demon took on his form.

"You want your freedom," the demon purred with his voice, slowly approaching her, "And you want me."

"No," she said, clutching her staff tightly. The demon laughed, leaning one hand above her head against the barrier. Slowly he traced her jaw with his other hand, laughing as she flinched away.

"No?" he asked, and Cullen felt a flash of hatred for this monster, wearing his face. "I know you've thought about it, love. Thought about asking Anders to help you escape, to bring me with you. We could run away together, go somewhere far off, like the Anderfels."

"Stop," she said, breath coming quickly, fear making her voice quiver.

"We could have children," Not-him told her, and Cullen felt as though he'd been punched. "The Chantry wouldn't take them from us."

Roughly, she shoved him away, and he began to laugh.

"Do you intend to fight me?" he taunted her.

"Yes," she replied, and the demon laughed harder.

"You and I both know you'll die," he said, smiling. "Why not live? I'll give you the life you want. It would be easy, to have the two of you escape now. I won't even ask to take you for another ten years, mageling."

"Solona," Cullen said, voice low and desperate, hatred cast aside at the thought that she was going to be killed in front of him. She turned to him, face bone white and eyes terrified, "Free me, I'll help you fight it –"

The demon moved with shocking alacrity, hand closed around Solona's throat in an instant.

"We can't have that, can we?" it asked, back to its female form. The mage struggled, but the demon was clearly stronger. Cullen hit the light barrier, desperately calling upon every templar power he had to try to end it. "I suppose I could give you one last chance," the demon said, squeezing her neck one last time before dropping her. "Would you like your freedom, to live your life with this templar?"

Solona's response was a stonefist to the demon's middle. She cast Winter's Grasp and then a glpyh of paralysis, and Cullen could feel the shift from mana to lifeforce he'd felt at the first blood mage attack.

_Abomination_, was his first thought, but then he realized that she wasn't slicing her wrists open, she was overexerting herself, and she was going to _die_ because she had nothing left in her and she hadn't been smart enough to leave.

Solona finished finished the demon before it had a chance to free itself from her glyph. He watched as she fell to the floor, her breathing shallow and her eyes shut.

"Amell?" he asked, pounding against the light barrier. Her eyes flicked open and she stared at him, still unable to move. "Amell!"

Cullen watched her eyes slip shut once more, feeling panic rise up inside him.


	2. Maleficarum

Thoughts scattered, Cullen waited for the demon to come back and resume her taunting. He knew the mage at his feet on the other side of the barrier had to be another of the demons' tricks; it couldn't really be Amell. The movement of her chest had gone shallower and shallower until he could no longer tell if she was breathing. The demon was trying to test him, somehow. It would let down the barrier and have him rush to help her only to be taken for good. He fell to his knees, praying once more and trying to block out the still form lying a few feet away.

How much later, Cullen couldn't say, but he heard voices and shut his eyes, bracing himself for the demon's return. To his surprise, this vision wasn't another of Amell, but of a group of people: a woman and man he'd never seen, an elf, and Senior Enchanter Wynne. So that was what it would be - a hope of rescue, then. A hope of saving Amell. Any concern he'd felt was gone, replaced with disgust with himself for actually believing she'd have come, the she'd have tried to save him at the cost of her own life.

"This trick again?" He said, not at all bothering to hide his contempt but well aware of how close to breaking he sounded. "It won't work. I know what you are. I will stay strong." The woman looked down at him, thoroughly annoyed, as the demon wearing Wynne's face dropped to her knees to check on the false Amell.

"She's still alive," Wynne breathed, and Cullen murmured the chant louder, trying to block out the conversation. He tried to tell himself that if this were really happening, Amell couldn't have survived. It did no good.

"Can you heal her?" the man asked, seemingly concerned.

"Do not take offense, my friend, but should we not request Wynne save her healing magic for us?" said the elf, looking down at Amell as though he weren't quite sure Wynne could save her even if she did try.

"Zevran is right," Wynne said regretfully, rising to her feet. "She will survive for the time being, but we must find the First Enchanter." She turned her attention to Cullen, gazing at him in that sadly maternal way she'd looked at Amell a moment before. That was too much.

"Begone, demon!" he said, opening his eyes and staring when he saw the four still assembled before him. Though the Wynne-demon and the man were looking at him with pity, the elf didn't seem to care, and the woman looked at him as though she had no time for his frivolity.

"Where are the others?" demanded the woman, and Cullen shakily exhaled.

"That's always worked before," he said, more to himself than the others, trying to push away the things forcing their way into his senses, convincing him this was real.

"We do _not_ have time for this," she said, crossing her arms. "Tell us where the others are now."

"They… they are in the Harrowing chamber," Cullen replied, now unsure of himself. They didn't offer freedom, or help for Amell. They would not disappear when he called them out. Unlike in the visions, his lyrium withdrawal was near-unbearable, he was ravenously hungry, and the spot where the rage demon had burned him stung with every breath. A small sense of urgency overtook him – if they were real, he had to be sure they'd do the right thing. "The other mages, you have to kill them! They could be maleficarum -"

"I'm going to save everyone I can," the woman said, already clearly finished with this conversation and feeling no sympathy for him. "We'll be back for you once we save the mages."

"Maker guide you," he said, staring after them. His gaze turned back to Amell's small form on the ground, still not convinced that she wasn't a demon. It would wake up any moment and resume tormenting him. He closed his eyes and continued the Chant, half praying the four would return safely and half dreading what it would mean if they did.


	3. Apostate

The cage fell not long after the others went into the Harrowing chamber.

Cullen stared at Amell's prone figure, unwilling to approach her lest she be an abomination. After a moment of indecision about what to do, he searched for his sword and shield. Those found, he decided to stand guard over her body while he waited, not sure if he was aiming to protect her or slay her. Soon the four people emerged from the Harrowing chamber, looking battle weary but alive. The woman Cullen assumed to be their leader didn't look happy.

"You got what you wanted," she told Cullen, watching Wynne kneel to begin healing Amell. "All the mages who were in there are dead." Under her breath, she muttered, "Maker-forsaken Litany needs some damn instructions."

"Thank you. The templars are forever in your debt," Cullen said, feeling an immense rush of relief. Now the only mage left was Amell. Wynne ceased healing her with a heavy sigh.

"We're out of lyrium, but she'll be perfectly fine once I have more," Wynne said, leaning back on her heels tiredly. "For now, though, she certainly isn't well enough to walk. Alistair, would you mind carrying her to the bottom of the tower?"

"Not at all," said the man in the templar armor, sheathing his sword so he could gently lift Amell.

"Poor thing…" Wynne murmured. "The first enchanter was the closest thing she had to a father. I don't look forward to telling her the news."

Cullen frowned as Amell shifted in the other templar's arms. Eyes half opened and looking much like she did after her Harrowing, Amell asked, "Cullen?"

"Ah – no," Alistair said, looking unsure how to deal with the small bundle of mage in his arms. He looked over to Cullen and mouthed 'you?' Cullen nodded. Alistair added, "He's safe, though."

"Thank you," she murmured, settling down. Her breathing was steadier now. Cullen followed the group down the tower in a daze, only half-listening to Wynne's attempt to introduce him to the other three. He was starting to come to terms with the fact that Amell had actually come to try to rescue him. Just the thought that a mage had to rescue a templar from the demons was bizarre enough for him, but that it was the same mage the demon had known was his weakness... He scowled at the thought, almost relieved to think the circle might be annulled and Amell with it. She'd tempted him, but he remained faithful to the Maker. It was all for the best, he realized now. Straying had given him the resolve to stay strong, to realize what the right path was.

Cullen breathed a sigh of relief as they saw Greagoir at the bottom of the tower. The knight commander had survived; he would keep order in what was left of the tower.

"All the mages who were in the Harrowing chamber are dead," Cullen said, and Greagoir frowned at the figure in Alistair's arms.

"All except Amell," he noted, and Cousland crossed her arms.

"Forget her for a minute, we have to talk treaties," the woman said. "Alistair, go find somewhere to put her down."

"Right," he said, wandering over to a bit of carpet a few feet away and lying her down. He hovered for a moment, unsure if he should just leave her there before walking back over to the group. Cullen only half listened to Cousland's request for aid in the blight, his eyes on Amell. She still hadn't woken up, but it didn't mean she was safe. She could easily be possessed.

After Cousland told Greagoir she would keep Wynne, the senior enchanter went back to Amell, to wake her up and tell her what had happened. Cullen was too far away to hear the words, but from the look on Amell's face he could tell the second Wynne told her the mages had all been killed. She began to sob, burying her face in her knees. He looked over to where Cousland was discussing with her other party members and walked over, knowing he needed to say something to her.

"Take Amell," Cullen said, and Cousland frowned at him.

"What?" she asked, and though Cullen had blurted it out in a moment of weakness, he knew it was the only real option for her. It was that or death, and much as he hated the sight of her now, he still didn't want her to die.

"There is nothing for her here," Cullen said, watching Wynne try to comfort the crying mage. "She has no friends or family, the first enchanter is dead –"

"But you appear to harbor some affection for the girl, no?" asked Zevran, and Cullen's face darkened.

"No," he replied, knowing it would tear Amell apart to hear it but that it was the truth. "Not anymore. I look at her, and all I see is a demon."

"Can she do anything?" asked Cousland, clearly calculating the benefit of it. "I'm trying to end a blight, not adopt stray mages out of the goodness of my heart."

"She can heal," Cullen said, recalling how he'd watched her throw herself into her lessons after her Harrowing. The faint memory of how she'd only smiled for Irving or him bubbled up and he pushed it back down, feeling sick. "And she's good with spirit magic. Amell learns quickly, she'll do whatever needs to be done."

Cousland seemed to mull it over for a moment, critically looking over the mage. "A circle trained mage has to be a better fighter than a witch who can't finish shape shifting half the time. And an extra healer couldn't hurt. What do you think, Alistair?"

Alistair nodded, looking seriously at Wynne and Amell. "Maybe she could help save Connor," he said, and Cousland nodded, looking less sure about that than Alistair.

She turned her attention back to Cullen. "Good luck rebuilding," she offered, and Cullen nodded, knowing she didn't particularly care. Cousland led the others back to Greagoir.

"We're taking the girl," Cousland said, and Greagoir looked outraged.

"Absoloutely not," he said. The warden drew herself up to her full height.

"Why?" Cousland asked. "You let us take Wynne."

"Wynne is a senior enchanter who has proven herself capable. Amell is a girl who only recently passed her Harrowing. She could be possessed," Greagoir said, and Cousland shrugged.

"Alistair's a templar. He can take care of her if it comes to that," said the woman, not backing down.

"No," Greagoir said. "Amell isn't leaving this tower."

"Fine. I invoke the right of conscription."

Even Alistair stared at her for a moment in surprise, before clearing his throat and nodding.

"Ah, right. We do need more wardens."

"You can't take her," Greagoir said, and Alistair grinned.

"The Grand Cleric herself had to let me go," he told the Knight Commander, who looked incredibly angry but clearly knew his hands were tied.

"Take her then," Greagoir replied, looking cross.

"Thank you," Cousland said, "And we'll call on you soon for aid."

Cullen watched Alistair and Cousland walked over to Amell. The mage looked up at them, face tear-streaked but calmer now. Whatever they said to her, she nodded, looking determined as she took Cousland's hand to help her up. Cullen felt relieved, and he wasn't certain if it was because Amell would be gone or because she would live.

Amell followed the wardens out, looking very much like she had before her Harrowing: terrified and shaking, but with an air of determination. She looked back at him, obviously wanting to say goodbye but looking unsure of herself. Cullen met her gaze with stoicism, not a trace of affection in his mannerisms. Her face fell, and she turned away from him, not looking back again.


End file.
